


Conduct Unbecoming

by ViolentWhisper



Category: Kingkiller Chronicles - Patrick Rothfuss
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-19 06:05:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11891601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViolentWhisper/pseuds/ViolentWhisper
Summary: On moonless, windless nights, when the world is too dark and quiet to face alone, Elodin seeks comfort in the other masters.





	1. Master Alchemist

**Author's Note:**

> This is story is not beta read and English is not my first language. You have been warned.

Master Mandrag never understood what it was that drove Elodin to him on some nights.

It was definitely not the Homebrew. His little project with Arwyl, a nice, thick beer with the taste of harvest and a lightness of heart. It took them fifteen years to perfect the recipe. The right amount of herbs with beneficial qualities and the optimum brewing process. It was heady enough to make bad thoughts go away, but invited no hangover the next day. Elodin was the only one who knew. Mandrag had no idea how he had found out, but there was no keeping secrets from him. Elodin was worse than a bloodhound even as a boy. He smelled secrets from miles away and didn’t rest until he unearthed them. To add insult to injury, he just casually dropped them in conversation, a half sentence indicating he knew, and grinned that mischievous grin of his. Never enough information to lead others to the secret, but a clear marker of that it was no secret for him anymore. He irritated Mandrag to no ends. He was glad to have Elodin out of his classes when he finally taught him everything there was to teach. He considered himself a fair teacher, he tried to never let the boy feel his dislike. And God’s bones, he was really just a boy. A head shorter than all his classmates, but so brilliant and so arrogant that it ruffled Mandrag’s feathers. Later, when Elodin made chancellor, he was glad he managed to hide his dislike. Until one offhand comment let him know that it was never a secret.

For many, alchemy was magic. For Mandrag, it was a puzzle or a maze. There was always a way, a solution, it just had to be found. Alchemy was logical, something that could be explained, even if the explanation went above the head of many people. There were natural alchemists, who had a knack, who could go by feel only. Still, alchemy was never more than a precise calculation combined with careful handling, leading to a desired outcome. Sympathy and artificing were a tad more mysterious, but still could be explained. Naming was magic. It was wild, unpredictable, unexplainable and unsettling. Just like Elodin himself.

  
Mandrag got out of bed when he heard the familiar raps on the door. Just loud enough to wake him, a little drag of the fingernails to make him grit his teeth and force him awake even from the deepest sleep. He didn’t bother draping anything about himself. His nightshirt would do just fine. There was nothing proper about the situation anyways.  
He turned on his sympathy lamp and went to open the door. He stepped aside to let his visitor in.

  
“Master Elodin.”

  
“Master Mandrag.”

  
They both nodded a greeting. Elodin was not naked, which was a pleasant change from the usual. Judging by the length of it, the nightshirt he was wearing belonged to Lorren. Mandrag didn’t want to know how he came by it. Tho knowing Lorren, it must have been an honest and completely innocent acquisition.

  
Mandrag closed the door behind them. He gestured towards a small table with two chairs. Elodin sat, one leg pulled up under him, the other hanging to the floor. He was barefoot.

  
“I’m afraid I don’t have any Homebrew for you tonight. The next batch will only be ready at sixth bell next Cendling” Mandrag said.

  
“It’s nothing to be afraid of” Elodin replied. He ran a hand through his tousled hair.

  
“May I offer you some metheglin instead?” Mandrag asked. Elodin shook his head.

  
That was when Mandrag noticed his necklace. It was made of silver, fine and delicate, a rather feminine design, with green stones at every connecting link. Elodin wore it when he was a boy. When he got his guilder, he replaced the necklace with that. The last time Mandrag had seen it was when Elodin ended up in Haven. He could still recall every detail. Kilvin bursting through the door, Elodin lying on the floor, catatonic and covered in sweat, his left hand clutching his necklace. When Arwyl tried to pry it from him, he broke a finger. The sickening sound it made still haunted Mandrag. Arwyl looked a little sick himself afterwards. There was no helping it, they couldn't let him keep any metal on himself. Lorren agreed to take care of it until Elodin recovered. Mandrag only saw it from up close that one time, but he could have sworn the stones were hollow inside.

  
He remembered the first time he noticed it as well. Elodin usually kept it hidden, probably to avoid comments from the others. The masters knew that he was bullied. They couldn't interfere, they were not allowed to seem partial to students. But they knew, and tried to do everything they could to prevent it from happening. Mandrag understood why the other students did it. He didn't approve, of course. But who could really blame them? Elodin was too young, too clever and he made them uneasy.  
They expected that sooner or later it would escalate. They feared for what would happen.

  
It was a relief that Elodin called the wind on Elxa Dal and not one of his fellow students. There was no real harm done either. The braziers exploded and the workroom was a mess afterwards, but even in his anger, Elodin was not out to hurt someone. Once Elxa Dal recovered from the shock, he found his laugh and talked about the incident as a funny story. He was so young himself, a new master, not even in his thirties yet. He tried to prevent Elodin going on the horns for it, but rules were broken and it couldn't be avoided. Still, when they voted on the expulsion, he kept his hand down in protest. Kilvin did the same.  
It was cruel, scaring the boy like that. He was so small as he stood before them, still one growth spurt short of looking adult. He was pale and shook visibly, tho he tried to put on a brave face. They had recently played the same trick on Kvothe with a similar effect. But even tho he was young, he at least looked grown up. He took it well enough as well.

  
Not Elodin. Elodin crumbled in front of them. Tehlu only knows why he chose Lorren, stone-faced and unreadable as ever. But Elodin stumbled forward to him, silent tears streaming down his face. He grabbed for Lorren's hand across the table, and as he leaned forward, the necklace slipped from his shirt. The clink of it on the table was the only sound in the room. Then Elodin let out a wretched sob.

  
"Uncle Lore" he pleaded. If he wanted to say more, it was choked out by his crying.

  
The masters exchanged confused glances. Lorren did sponsor Elodin to El'ir, but they were not aware of them having a more intimate relationship. In hindsight, it was not strange that a lonely boy would look for a father figure in the master he worked for the most.

  
Lorren kept his face unreadable, but he must have been fazed, if nothing else by the sudden burst of emotions from Elodin, as it took him a few seconds to collect himself.

  
"That's quite enough" he said, stern but emotionless. He waited for Elodin to calm down a bit. "We are not going to expel you" he added then.

  
Elodin was still grinning when he got whipped the day after. Whether he should be whipped or not was the hardest decision. Elxa Dal, Kilvin and Arwyl argued for just fining him, as they did with girls. Lorren argued that it would insult him in his manhood if they treated him like a woman. In the end, they agreed on two lashes, which was the minimum. Elodin was so small that at the first lash the whip reached over his shoulder, bloodying his chest as well. Arwyl grumbled for days afterwards. The white welt of it was still visible. It was Elodin's first whipping, and the most memorable one for all spectators.

  
Mandrag realized his mind had been wandering. Being rude to a guest was not his nature, even if it was an uninvited night visitor. He quickly moved to the corner where he kept his small iceless and a choice selection of his favourite drinks and snacks.

  
"Would you care for some drinking chocolate then?" he asked. He had no idea where it came from, maybe the necklace triggered his memories. But Elodin's face lit up at the mention of chocolate.

  
Mandrag went about preparing the drink with an alchemists' precision. An exact measure of chocolate, the perfect temperature of water, the precise amount of fat cream to make it smooth, thick but still drinkable. He served it in a glass jar, and Elodin wrapped his fingers around it with childish glee.

  
Mandrag couldn't help wondering if some part of his mind wished him back to his lost childhood when he cracked. There was a reason the University didn't usually accept students under a certain age. If the masters hadn't had agreed on that sending Elodin away would have been dangerous, they wouldn't have taken him in at all. But risking that he would satisfy his thirst for knowledge without proper supervision and stumble upon things he shouldn't dabble with was out of question. It took him two weeks to make El'ir, Elxa Dal and Lorren practically fighting for which of them would sponsor him. It was more of a staring competition, but not even the willpower of a seasoned symphatist could outmatch the Master Archivist when his mind was set on something.

  
Mandrag smiled at that particular memory. Elodin returned it, flashing a toothy grin. Sometimes he really looked like a little boy. Mandrag was no idiot, unlike Hemme, he knew that behind all the eccentric nonsense and childishness, Elodin was an arcanist without compare. It was easy to get fooled by his behavior and he wore them out with his oddities. He could be Master Alchemist if he wanted to. Luckily for Mandrag, Elodin was the only one who could become Master Namer. There was another one, a bright and promising student, who could have contested them both. Mandrag couldn't remember her name tho. It had curiously slipped from his mind. He could still remember what she looked like.

  
He was no longer tired. Elodin drank his chocolate in silence, staring into the fire. Maybe he was listening for its name. Mandrag's mind wandered, tugging on the memories of the girl. It tore open wounds he long thought healed. He needed distraction.

  
"Would you like to play a game of tak?" he asked. Elodin nodded eagerly.

  
Mandrag pulled out his board and set up the game. It was a fine carved wood set, a present from his family when he made master. He usually played with Brandeur, they met twice a span for a few games and a few cups.

  
He had no idea how playing with Elodin would be. His mind was erratic at best and unpredictable for the most. Mandrag was old enough to like his routines. Still, maybe he would pick up a new move and surprise Brandeur next time with it.

  
He let Elodin chose his color, and when he picked white, he let him start the game as well. The first few moves were quick. Elodin seemed to be placing his stones by random, but after a while Mandrag could see a strategy behind it. It was a chaotic mess at first glance, but Elodin's crazy worked that way - when giving it a second thought, he made sense most of the time.  
Mandrag finally found the logic in it and the game slowed down significantly. Elodin was now forced to think about his moves as he worked his strategy against him. Mandrag was quite proud that he proved to be a difficult opponent.

  
The change in pace gave him time to think through his own moves as well. However, he found it hard to concentrate on the game. The name of the girl escaping him bothered him way too much. He was not old enough to go forgetting important details. He tried to ignore it and for four more moves, he was watching Elodin intently, trying to read from his face what he was planning. At the fifth turn, he gave up. Elodin was nodding his head from left to right, like a bored child, but his eyes were fixed on the board all the time, betraing his concentration.

  
"Master Elodin, do you remember a yellow haired girl? Thin, always smiling, had a knack with alchemy?" Mandrag asked.

  
"It is statistically very likely, considering a the number of girls attending the university and how few of them actually focuses on alchemy" Elodin answered, without looking up. "What is her name?"

  
"I don't remember" Mandrag admitted. "I was hoping you could help me out."

  
Elodin finally moved a stone. His eyes met Mandrag's and searched him for a few seconds. He looked like a little boy confronted with a mischief he was afraid to admit to, fearing the consequences.

  
"She was my El'ir at the time you were a Giller. I don't think to taught her, I believe it was when you were working under Elxa Dal. You were there when she spoke her first name."

  
Elodin's expression went from abashed to frightening in an instant. For a long moment, he stared intently at Mandrag, his eyes boring into him. Even the light seemed to dim a bit. Mandrag felt goosebumps rise on his arms and cold sweat running down his spine. He swallowed hard, trying to keep up a cool appearance. Then the moment passed and Elodin looked like a naughty child again.

  
"She goes by Auri these days" he answered matter of factly.

  
"Have you met her recently?"

  
"We shared dinner a few spans ago" Elodin's tone suggested that further questions were not welcome.

  
Mandrag didn't ask more. The name fit the picture of the girl inside his head, tho there was something alien about it, as if he actually heard it for the first time. He shook his head and moved a stone on the table.

  
Elodin drank up the last of his chocolate, and concentrated on the game again. Mandrag watched him. Whatever happened to Elodin, it made him dangerous. It unleashed something in him, something powerful and unstoppable. Mandrag thanked Thelu that Elodin was able to check his anger. Even if he let it rise and made them feel its potential, he had so far never used his powers on them. He executed childish revenges instead, to the endless amusement of Elxa Dal, who was himself rarely the victim of them. Mandrag had the suspicion that Elodin let his inner child out to protect the world from the more sinister part of him.

  
It was so different before. As Elodin matured, his hot-headed arrogance stilled by a few whippings and the passing of the problematic teenage years. By the time he made El'the, he was a quiet, solid presence. Always there to answer a question, help the others, never drawing attention to himself. The masters were convinced that when they gave him his guilder, he was ready to start teaching. There were rumors of bar brawls over at Imre and it was whispered on the corridors that Elodin was looking for love at all the wrong places, but they were hard to reconcile with the Elodin they knew. If his knuckles were bruised or his lip split up when he came to his classes, noone thought further of it. Naming was not something they were well versed in, they were eager to believe that outdoorsy Elodin hurt himself seeking the edges that according to him were so useful for finding names.

  
If it were not for Auri, Mandrag would not have given him a second thought. Elodin was an annoyance in his classes, and once he got his guilder, he was glad to be rid of him. Then Auri, bright, talented Auri called the name of the fire.

  
Mandrag was late to arrive to see it, Elxa Dal had already taken care of it. He was told later how Auri was standing there, with a ring of fire around her, raised as walls of protection. One of the students who saw it happen screamed, and luckily Elxa Dal heard it. He also knew the name of fire and undid quickly what Auri called on. When the fire died away, she was kneeling on the cobblestones of the yard, cradling an unconscious Elodin. She was shaking so violently that Arwyl sent for Mandrag, who was Auri's favorite teacher, hoping he could calm her. He managed to coax her into letting Kilvin take Elodin from her arms and carry him to Medica. Her light blue dress was red with blood. Mandrag was afraid she was hurt. But after Arwyl made her drink a herbal tea that calmed her down a bit, she refused to be examined.

  
"It's his blood" she whispered, staring at her hands.

  
"What happened?" Mandrag asked, making sure his voice was soft and quiet.   
"They were hurting him. He fell and he was bleeding and they didn't stop. I got scared... and I shouted at them" Auri sniffled and then started cyring. "Poor Elodin."

  
"He'll be fine. The wound is not deep, one of my Re'lars is stitching him up right now" Arwyl assured her. "Elodin is tough. He'll be back on his feet in no time."

  
Auri shook her head.

  
"No, Master Arwyl" she said through her tears. "Elodin is fragile. But he will break before he lets you even see a crack."

  
Mandrag had no idea then how true Auri's words were. He thought she was in shock.

  
He sponsored her for Re'lar the next day. Auri continued coming to his classes, still as enthusiastic about alchemy as before. But something in her changed. It was such a slight change that he could have never imagined what it would lead to.

  
Maybe if Elodin had been around, if he could have taught her naming, it would have happened differently. But Lorren sent him away, under the pretense of acquisition of books he claimed too dangerous to trust on anyone else. And Elodin went, to chase the wind, to live outside his studies, to try to make friends he was denied of earlier. Auri became more and more frightened and withdrawn, and one day she disappeared completely.

  
Mandrag sighed. It had been such a long time since he thought of her. How could he forget all that happened and her name?  
  
Elodin was patiently waiting for him to make his next move. Mandrag hoped he didn't notice him getting lost in memories. If he did, Elodin made no mention of it. He pretended that Mandrag was considering his next move.

  
After this, he didn't let his mind wander. He concentrated solely on a game. He didn't notice the hours passing. Finally, there were no more moves to make. The game ended undecided.

  
"Thank you, Master Mandrag. It was a beautiful game" Elodin said.

  
"The pleasure was all mine" Mandrag replied.

  
Elodin stood. From the window, early morning light seeped into the room.

  
Mandrag put away the board and the stones. When he turned, Elodin was curled up in his bed, hugging his blanket and sound asleep. Of course, unlike Mandrag, he didn't have morning classes. At least he was not naked.

  
Mandrag shook his head and selected a robe for the day. As he was dressing up, his thoughts wandered to the girl again. Auri, Elodin said. He wondered where she was and what she was doing. If she was safe and happy.

  
"Tehlu shelter us, fools and children all" he muttered. He cast a last glance at the sleeping Elodin, then quietly slipped out of the room.

  
The rest of the day, Auri was on his mind.


	2. Master Physicker

Master Arwyl was used to getting woken up in the middle of the night. More often than not, he was needed in Medica to urgently take care of a patient. As a consequence, he was a light sleeper, waking to the faintest knocks on the door, even to footsteps outside on the corridor. It was always a relief when, opening the door, not one of his gillers stood there, pale-faced and urgency in their voices. On nights when nothing happened, he woke anyways, at least once, just out of habit.  
  
Herma was a frequent visitor as well. His illness, tho not life threatening, required constant treatment. Most people wouldn’t even have noticed he was sick and Arwyl saw that as a good sign.  
Herma always came before his bedtime. It was their agreement to never meet in the Medica, in order to not get any gossips started. Stability was important. If things turned sour, they would have reason to worry, but so far it was under control. Arwyl examined him once every span and supplied him with medicine. Then they had a nightcap together. Sweet cider, more for the sake of ritual. Arwyl needed a clear head all the time and Herma’s medication didn’t mix well with strong alcoholic beverages.  
  
Elodin’s visits were less regular. He was the only other master Arwyl treated outside Medica. Tho it was not for the sake of secrecy. It was a matter of security. Elodin was dangerous. Awake and conscious, he was in control, but feverish and delirious, he could destroy the whole building. Arwyl had permission to transport him back to Haven if things were looking bad. Elodin himself agreed to it, for the safety of the others. He might have been one marble short of completely sane, but he was not unreasonable.  
  
In the Master’s Hall, Elodin had a room at the far end of the building, with Arwyl as his only neighbor. He had to switch rooms with Kilvin to end up there. Not that there was any chance he could go back to the chancellor’s rooms. As far as Arwyl knew, Elodin was not interested in being chancellor again, which was good news, all things considered. He was a quiet enough neighbor. He came and went at strange times, but he seldom made any noise. Sometimes, he had nightmares. Sometimes, Arwyl could hear him and Elxa Dal through the thin walls. They both chose to not have soundproofing wards. Arwyl needed to be reachable all the time, and Elodin hated the lack of noise since his stay at Haven. All in all, he was a better neighbor than Kilvin, who snore loudly. Or Hemme, for that matter.  
  
Arwyl had always liked Elodin. Despite the fact that his studies in medicine were short-lived. He signed up like all the new students who were hell bent on studying everything. Most of them left because they couldn’t handle the burden of so many subjects. Elodin left because Arwyl was adamant on how many terms it would take as a minimum to advance in ranks in the Medica. He didn’t fault him for that. Elodin burned with a fire that was unstoppable. Medica would have just kept him back. Still, having adequate experience was crucial for identifying illnesses, and Arwyl wouldn’t bend his rules, not even for a genius.  
  
He simply had a thing for wayward youngsters. He would have loved to have kids of his own, but running the Medica needed all his time and attention. A family would have just suffered from it. The students were his children, grown ups and underage alike. He treated their cuts and burns, cured the majority of them of the occasional pneumonia, lost a few to binder's chill and freak accidents. It hurt more when he lost them too young. He was adamant on not losing Kvothe. Just the same as he didn't lose Elodin.  
  
Kvothe was a lot like a young Elodin. Except that he had already learned that life was hard and he was always ready for a fight. He came to the university self-secure and street-smart. He kept impressing Arwyl with how clever and gutsy he was. Tho he couldn't help noticing that he was singularly pursuing interests he was naturally good at. He was sure Kvothe knew struggle, but he seemed to prefer the easiest path to avoid it as much as possible. Arwyl once told him that he hadn't forgotten boys were not innocent and even men could be cruel. If Kvothe had heard from Manet what he was referring to, he didn't know. He was glad to see the boy had friends, even if he had no family left. That Manet was one of them was even better. Thirty years at the University let you see and hear all sort of things. He hoped Manet would be the compass to him that they all failed to be for Elodin. They did everything they could. But a master who answers all your questions is not a friend who helps you through all your troubles. Elodin was their student, they weren't allowed to have any other kind of relation with him. Arwyl was especially bothered by this. When fourteen year old Elodin was brought to the University by a loving and doting mother, who sheltered her brilliant son from as much of the world's cruelty as she could, she probably thought she left him in good hands. She couldn't have known that she left him for the wolves. Elodin loved her too much to break her heart with the truth. That young men with high hopes didn't take kindly to a boy who was way smarter than them. That people who couldn't match your wits, more often than not used their fists to even out the odds. That even a master was not above such a thing when clashing with a razor sharp mind.  
  
Elodin visited less often than he should have. He let his injuries go untreated as long as he could ignore the pain or the discomfort. He avoided getting his illnesses checked out as long as he could stand and walk around with them. And he absolutely refused even to hear him mention a non-physical injury. Arwyl didn't believe, not for a second, that he was mad. He had seen madness, and while each case was unique, Elodin just didn't check out as one. He would have loved to talk to him about his mind, his thought processes, to be able to determine what really was going on. Elodin firmly refused. Still, it didn't stop fascinating him. Talented namers were often perceived as eccentric and weird, some even went completely mad. It couldn't be avoided. As you opened up your mind to a new world, an altered concept of reality, your view of yourself changed with it. Arwyl wondered sometimes how fine the line between madness and sanity was. But he was sure Elodin hadn't passed it. They let the gossip circulate about him going mad and ending up in Haven, only because the truth was worse. Arwyl shuddered even at the thought of it.

  
That night, he came. Arwyl expected him. It was the kind of night that made him uneasy. The moon was hidden behind unmoving clouds, the air heavy and stale and cracking the window open only made it worse.    
  
Elodin was wearing his best robe. It was a rich, heavy material, probably chosen because it was the warmest. Arwyl saw right away that he had a fever. His eyes were way too shiny, his cheeks flushed and he was wearing too many clothes for a warm night.

Arwyl put a hand on his forehead, brushing away stray strands of tousled hair. His skin felt clammy and hot, and he didn't like the color of his lips. Nor the shape of his pupils for that matter. It was definitely not just a cold. Elodin shuddered and stumbled. Arwyl steadied him. He gently guided him towards the bed and sat him down. Elodin's Adam's apple moved as if he was trying to speak, but couldn't.

Arwyl gave him some water.

"Can you speak, son?" he asked.

"Yes, Master Arwyl." Elodin's voice was coarse and somehow weak. At least he was able to use it. He took another sip of water. After that, Arwyl pulled the glass from his lips and gently pried it from his fingers.

"Don't drink more until we figured out what's wrong with you" he said. He put down the glass on his nightstand, then lifted Elodin's chin to examine his face. All the tell-tale signs were there. But who would do that to Elodin?

"Let's get you out of these robe so I can examine you" he said, letting go of Elodin's face. He helped him take off his robe, pulling it over his head, then set it aside. Elodin was naked under it, of course. His skin was pink where the robe touched it. The material was coarse, not intended to wear over bare skin. Still, it shouldn't have irritated him this much.

Arwyl put a hand on Elodin's chest, feeling his erratic, shallow heartbeats. He listened to his breathing, then looked him all over, searching for fresh cuts, infected scars, any physical signs of injury.

"When did it start?"

"I was feeling weak already this evening. The fever started only a few hours ago" Elodin replied.

Arwyl nodded. He noticed that Elodin looked out of spirits over dinner already. He was barely touching the food. He tended to be distant sometimes, ignoring all the other masters when he didn't feel like having a conversation. He showed up anyway most of the time, just like the majority of them who didn't have anything else planned. Having dinner together was not compulsory, but dinner was served for all the masters who were there in time to eat it, and it was convenient enough to just eat with the others.

He should have asked Elodin back then if he was feeling all right, but he was deep in conversation with Mandrag over a new substance they were planning to test out as cast for broken bones. It was only the five of them that night. Hemme and Brandeur were in Imre. Lorren travelled to Tarbean earlier that day and Herma was still in his office, poring over a translation. Kilvin and Elxa Dal were also talking, and Arwyl caught Kvothe's name in their exchange. Elodin used his knife to individually pick out the beans from his soup and line them up in patterns on his slice of white bread. He sometimes stabbed his fork into a piece of potato and nibbled on it. It wasn't unusual, apart from the fact that he was barely eating and he looked completely solemn, which was not a normal state of mind with him.

Arwyl sighed. What was done, was done. He pulled out a fine woven blanket from one his drawers and draped it over Elodin.

"This is pure linen, it shouldn't give you any trouble" he said. Elodin huddled under it.

Arwyl pulled up a chair and sat in front of him. He took one of Elodin's arms, examined the veins then held two fingers over his wrists.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Faint. Dizzy. Cold."

"Is your mind clear or do you feel confused?"

Elodin seemed to be weighing his answer.

"It is hard to keep it clear. It wants me to slip" he said finally.

Arwyl became worried. The mind of a namer was delicate, but they had a kind of control other people didn't. If Elodin was struggling to keep himself in check... he had to find out quickly what was going on.

"Are you still walking around barefoot?"

"It's not that cold yet" Elodin replied.

"Have you injured your foot? A cut, a bite, stepped into something? A pain or swelling you ignored?"

Elodin shook his head.

"Have you been to the Fishery recently?"

"Not since the accident."

Arwyl nodded. Elodin was not at the University when the bone-tar exploded, but he insisted on helping with the clean up and the repairs once he heard what happened. Kilvin grumbled that he wanted his good for nothing giller to scrub the floors and mend the piping with his bare hands, but Arwyl knew he appreciated Elodin's help. And that he would throw him out straight away if he set foot in the Fishery without his shoes. Elodin nearly died inside there once, after all.

At least he could rule out injuries and smelter's flu. He didn't like the next question he had to ask, not one bit.

"Have you slept with anyone?"

"I can say with reasonable assurance that you heard when I did" Elodin said matter of factly. Arwyl smiled briefly at that. He did hear it, he happened to be inside his room all of that night.

"Outside the Master's Hall?"

"No" Elodin spat. The tone suggested the question offended him.

Arwyl knew he had every right to take offense. Still, he needed to be sure. Elodin was no longer an affection starved boy, but the possibility was there. Even tho it was fifteen years ago when Deoch personally carried back his bleeding, unconscious body to the University and gave Lorren, who the runner boy happened to fetch, a piece of mind about looking after their damned kids. It must have left him thoroughly confused, since he showed up at Arwyl's room in the Master's Hall and all but dumped the boy in his hands. When the stitches were out a few weeks later and Elodin got whipped for conduct unbecoming, it was Lorren who insisted on the maximum number of lashes. Not that the whipping helped anything.

"Have you eaten or drunk anything that you don't usually do? Picked berries or drunk from a stream?"

"I don't graze, I'm not cattle" Elodin replied, still offended. "A few spans ago I ate barley bread of questionable origin for dinner. And one third of a cinnas fruit" he added after some thinking.

Arwyl wondered what kind of company he could have had dinner with, but it was way too long ago to have any significance. He would have been showing the signs already then.

Elodin's eyes are were growing dimmer. He stared shivering violently, pulling up his legs to his chest as he sat under the thin blanket. There was not much time left before he would slip.

"Tell me everything you did today. Where you were, who you met, what you ate and drank" Arwyl said. He tried to keep the urgency out of his voice, to not scare Elodin.

"I woke up, climbed the roofs, listened to the wind in the morning. Skipped breakfast. Taught a class. Visited Elxa Dal, but we drank only water. I had lunch with Master Herma, then we went to his office. He wanted me to look at a translation he was preparing. He offered me chilled wine and I took a glass. He drank a few sips as well. I was with him until third bell. We drank only water and before I left, he gave me a cinnas fruit. It was too ripe to keep and he didn't have a taste for it, he said. I would have shared it with a friend if it looked like it would hold a few more days. But it was on the edge of overripe so I ate it. Then I visited Alder in Haven and went for a stroll, but I was too tired so I came back. I went to the archives and read a book. Then I had dinner with you and retired to my room. I didn't do anything afterwards, I felt too sick for it. Just drank some water and tried to sleep it off." The lengthy reply must have exhausted him, as Elodin closed his eyes.

 Arwyl raised an eyebrow. Elodin only ate and drank with other masters, but everyone else was doing fine. There was only one thing that he ate alone. 

"Did Arthur tell you where he got the cinnas fruit from?" he asked. Elodin opened his eyes and looked at him incredulously.

"No. He just said that he'd had it for days and now it was too ripe, so I could have it if I wanted. He saw me looking at it and offered."

It was not a secret that Elodin was very fond of cinnas fruit. None of the other masters liked it that much and they often let him have it if they came by one. Except Hemme, of course. Anyone who knew that could have done it. It didn't have to be Herma.

"Did it taste unusual?"

Elodin shook his head.

"No, I felt no taste, other than the cinnas."

"No taste" Arwyl muttered. Cinnas fruit was sweet enough to hide bitter tastes, but Elodin had eaten enough of it to feel any difference. It must have been something tasteless. Rapid heartbeat, shaking, fever, dry throat, confusion...

Arwyl jumped from the seat. He opened a cabinet and took out two bottles. One was hardly bigger than his thumb. He uncorked it and gave it to Elodin.

"Drink up. All of it, at once. It tastes vile but try to keep it down."

Elodin's hand shook and Arwyl had to steady it with his own, so he could drink it. He heard him gag, but swallowed. Arwyl resisted the urge to pat his head for being a good boy. He put down the other bottle on the nightstand and sat to observe him.

For long minutes, nothing happened and Arwyl was afraid he got the antidote wrong. It might have been a different poison. But then Elodin's breathing evened out and his violent shaking stilled to the occasional shiver. He appeared to be more lucid as well.

"Do you still vomit when you take charcoal?" Arwyl asked. Some people could not handle the texture of it, and Elodin was one of them.

"I haven't tried in the past two years, but I suppose I still do" he answered. Even his voice sounded stronger. Still too weak for comfort, but better than before.

"We'll give a few more minutes for the antidote to work, then you can drink the other bottle. It does the same as charcoal, but without all the mess that causes. Unfortunately, it induces vomiting as well, but it doesn't matter in your case anyways."

Elodin scoffed. Arwyl took it as a good sign. He watched him, checking his temperature once again. The fever had to run its course. He would draw out the poison as best as he could, but that meant no other medication. It was all the same. If the poison didn't kill him, the fever wouldn't. If it did, curing the fever would have been for nothing anyways.

Arwyl's mind was racing. Herma had no reason to poison Elodin. He liked the boy, respected him even. He was made master while Elodin was away and took over from him as chancellor later. Elodin had no dislike for him, and Herma often took his side when he exasperated the other masters with his antics. There was no rivalry or emnity between them.

It must have been unintentional. Herma was the target of the poison. The cinnas fruit could have been accidental. Or the poison placed by someone who didn't care if Elodin ended up as collateral damage. Or the other way around. Elodin was the target and Herma the collateral damage if he were to consume it himself.

The solution came to his mind right away. He didn't want to believe it. It was beyond cruel. Not one of them would be capable of that.

Arwyl realized he had never withdraw his hand and Elodin was now leaning into it. He looked healthier, but tired and as the flush from his skin disappeared, he became pale. He patted him lightly on his cheek. Elodin looked up to him. There was knowing in his eyes. Arwyl didn't have to tell him what had happened, it was clear he figured it out himself. The way he looked at him, the cool sanity of it, scared him.

"Time for the second bottle" he Arwyl said. Elodin reached for it himself and Arwyl stood, picking up a basin which he placed on the chair in front of him. He rummaged through his cabinet for a few strips of dried ginger. He filled a glass with water and put both in the reach of Elodin.

"You can drink a few sips if you want, but don't drink much. It will come back out anyways. Chew on some ginger if you feel like it, but keep some for after you are finished" he advised.

Elodin looked at him, but before he could say anything, he ducked and pulled the basin closer to himself.

Arwyl cracked open a window. The air outside was still unmoving, but it was cooler than the room's temperature. He stared into the darkness outside, trying to give Elodin some privacy. He heard him vomiting. He kept it up a long time and when finally he was just wretchedly dry heaving, Arwyl closed the window.

He took the basin from him.

"Chew on the ginger now. Don't swallow it. And no water" he told him.

He went out to empty the basin and wash it. The Master's Hall was quiet and empty. He could see light seeping from the crack under the door from Mandrag's room, the rest of them were dark. He had a mind of checking on Herma, just to see if he was all right. He answered his knocking right away. He looked sleepy but healthy. Arwyl decided to not trouble him with details until the morning. He told him that Elodin was sick and to cancel his classes for a span, as an excuse for waking him. Herma thanked him and went back to sleep.

Arwyl sighed. The danger was far from over.

Back inside his room, Elodin was asleep. His legs were still on the floor, but he lay on his side, his face resting on Arwyl's pillow. Fever and exhaustion got the better of him. Arwyl lay down the basin next to the door. He couldn't be bothered to put it away yet.

He checked on Elodin's breathing, then lifted his legs up on the bed. He sat down next to him, pulling a book from his nightstand to read. He had to stay awake and watch him, just in case. Some of the poison was still inside his body. It would be a few days until it cleared completely.

Arwyl sat vigil.

He hoped the poisoner was sleeping well, because once Elodin recovered, there would be no sleep for him.


End file.
